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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752214">I Shall Lift My Face Upon Thee--</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necroplantser/pseuds/Necroplantser'>Necroplantser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scion of the Sixth House [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Instant Regret: The Fic, Mentions of Patricide, ancestral guidance, and ash ghouls, and destiny oh my!, corprus monsters, creepy dagoth priests being creepy, giving up and starting again is a valid option always, hot gossip with the local ghoul, trans elves looking out for trans elves, your great-great-something-grandpa telling you to stop that from beyond the grave</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:01:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necroplantser/pseuds/Necroplantser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An offer he can't refuse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scion of the Sixth House [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121333</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Watchful Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Multichapter this time. Cha cha real smooth.</p><p>This time featuring a gaggle of Dagoths!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ah, fuck! Get off me, get it off me--” Sur grappled with the creature that had assaulted him just outside the entrance to Kogoruhn, breath forced out of him as he was shoved into the stairs. Though he was pinned, he managed to get his legs bent beneath the beast, and kicked outwards, dislodging himself from its hold and stunning it long enough to get into the ruin. What he hadn’t expected was to only see </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> monsters, leaking open sores, disfigured hulking masses--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--like the one he’d seen in his dreams.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, fuck…” Iveri’s offer repeated itself in his mind as he ducked into a corridor, where he thought for a moment that he saw a shaven-headed dunmer in a grey robe. “Oi! You there, please, you have to help me, there’s--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dunmer turned around and Sur’s heart dropped straight into his stomach before it launched back up into his throat. “A guest,” rasped the creature from wherever its mouth was behind the trunk sticking out where its eyes should have been. “And… more, than a guest.” It approached him where he stood, scared stiff. “You come here because you hear our Lord as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Who are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name is Dagoth Baler,” said the creature. “And despite the… situation, you have found yourself in, I mean you no harm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are those things, the… the </span>
  <em>
    <span>things,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I--they </span>
  <em>
    <span>attacked me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you have guard hounds in here, Baler?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite Sur’s own panic, the creature’s demeanor remained calm, placid, even welcoming. “They are the unfortunate ones who did not take well to our gift.” Baler approached, palms facing upwards at Sur, who struggled not to back away. “You, though, are of our blood. Were you to take this gift your Lord has offered you by way of your dreams, you might become more than them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sur bit his lip. “Dreams, huh? You sure talk like you came out of one of mine…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come in, now,” said Baler, gesturing to the room before them both. “They will not follow you inside. We can have a talk.” Baler led Sur in before closing the door behind them both, and gesturing to a table with two chairs, where he sat in one and clasped his hands on the wooden table’s surface. “Sit, cousin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one finds themselves here by mistake,” Baler continued. “You were driven here by a force, and that force was our Lord, Dagoth Ur, in your dreams. I came here much like you did, confused and afraid, but you have nothing to fear here. You are a child of House Dagoth, and this is your home. What clan are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drinith.” Slowly, the word came out. “Sur Drinith, my full name, anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That brought a light -- or at least, Sur thought it did, he wasn’t quite sure -- to Baler’s face. He quickly waved him over to finally sit, and when he did, Baler leaned over the table, grinning a mouth full of sharp teeth. “Clan Drinith was lost centuries ago,” he chirped. “To see you here is like seeing a direct descendant of Clan Dagoth untouched by our Lord. Unheard of. Amazing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sur fidgeted, uncomfortable, and drummed his fingertips on the table. “So you’ve been…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...waiting for our family to come back to us, yes, we all have. And I take it you have, too, or you would not have come here! What did it take, to leave the clans that assimilated yours?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” Sur gripped a fist, pushing it down into the table for stimulation. “I broke into the family records. When I started having dreams, I mean. Traced it back from my mother -- always knew my father was a proud Redoran by blood, and I guess my mother too, but she’d been telling me about her dreams too. You know, when you go to Temple and they tell you Dagoth Ur’s giving folks dreams, a reasonable person would wonder </span>
  <em>
    <span>why…</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Sur made eye contact with Baler (‘eye’ contact, really, he just looked at that frankly distressing face trunk) he was still smiling. Sur wondered for a moment if Baler could really see him, so he smiled back, lips tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Got confronted about it by my father when I decided to leave. I had to, you know, I’d been seeing this place, my ancestors, all that… and…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment he contemplated which statement he wanted to follow up with. Lensoth’s story that had driven him further towards Kogoruhn? Would that be too personal, too quick? With Iveri it had been different, with Iveri ze had been the same. Baler might understand, but not know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I killed my father. Or I think I did. Didn’t stop to check if he was still alive. I ran away to Maar Gan, and then I was here, and I’m still not sure which way I took.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The right way,” Baler supplied. “And it is with </span>
  <em>
    <span>immense</span>
  </em>
  <span> pleasure, sera Drinith, that I offer you a considerable token of your true family’s love for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you expect to come this far and receive… well, the welcome that you did? It hardly befits a descendant of one of the highest-ranking clans of House Dagoth.” Baler held his clawed hands out to Sur again. “To have one of our nobility return to us after so many generations apart is an honor. For you, I can begin the process of taking you to our High Priest, who will name you Brother, and give you the Heart’s blessing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You mean corprus…?” Sur couldn’t help it -- his face fell, and his heart raced in fear at the prospect of becoming like one of the creatures that had chased him into Kogoruhn. “Isn’t that what those beasts out there have?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Baler laughed, a high whistle of a noise that seemed to come more from his trunk than his mouth. “Beasts they may be, as their bodies and minds did not take to the blessing. They did not know how to control it. It will be a trial for you, as it is for all of us, but we offer guidance in this regard.” Baler reached out and took Sur’s still-tapping fingers in his hand. “And with it you will become as your Lord wills, as you were supposed to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sur paused. “As I… was supposed to be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now he was well and truly at a wall. Iveri’s offer and Baler’s offer sat facing each other down in his head, arguing their pros and cons. The sheer chaos of corprus or the will of a god. He might very well lose control and become a mindless monster. He might very well be ignored again. Were he to survive the apparent gauntlet corprus faced him with, he would live with his ancestral family. Were Vivec to hear him, he could make his own path unimpeded by his own insecurities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything he had done to get here…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sur let go of Baler’s hand, and stood from his chair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I can manage it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would come all this way to give up? You took your father’s life to give up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not giving up, I just… I don’t know. You said it’s going to make me how I’m supposed to be…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dagoth Baler grinned, teeth interlocking in a comedically sharp smile. He stood as well, approaching Sur again and, again, taking his hands. “Tell me about your dream. The one that brought you here.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Blind and Beset</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Had a REALLY fucked up hypnagogic hallucination the other night where something sharp kept grabbing my ankles. I hope you're enjoying My Nightmares Write A Fic Series.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Staggering out, Sur frantically shucked off his gloves and checked his hands and forearms for blood. Common knowledge was that corprus spread through contact and bodily fluid, and he and Baler would have had no skin contact whatsoever had he not <em> stabbed him. </em> A chitin utility knife now discarded in the upper halls of Kogoruhn when Sur had finished recounting his dream to Baler, the half-hearted writhing of the corpse of the ash ghoul, summing up the bloodied leather gloves that he pulled inside out, balled up, and hurled into the distance.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sur-Lensoth kicked off the monstrous shambling corprus zombie, wrenching himself from the woman’s grasp as the dream set into motion. Narrow bending and winding halls met him as he struggled to run, and he watched himself as he was pulling the scarf tied about his waist over his chest. Like trying to sprint through water, his approach to a door slowed, and when he made it and reached to push it outward, something sharp grabbed his shoulder.</p><p>“Are you going, my brother?”</p><p>It was a much lighter voice than Sur’s that came out. “I’m afraid I am.” He didn’t look back. He knew if he looked back he would never leave. “Boethiah tells us to make our own path. This is mine.”</p><p>“And where would you go, if not home?”</p><p>“I’ll make my own.” Sur-Lensoth shook off the hand and made his exit, the blinding light of dawn waking Sur for part of a night’s worth of sleep.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>The ash storms had covered Sur’s trail, and it was half a day before he made it back to Maar Gan. His mind hazy from the trauma of it all, he approached a guard. “Directions to the Temple?” he asked. </p><p>“Big building at the end of town,” said the guard. “Can’t even miss it if you tried, sera.” The guard looked him up and down thoroughly. “You look sick, best you hurried up.”</p><p>Did he? He didn’t feel sick. Well, he felt a bit nauseated from the blood and the sights of Kogoruhn, and he hadn’t slept well since leaving Ald’ruhn. He lifted his hand up to touch his face and felt puffy bags under his eyes, confirming his suspicions -- a good night’s sleep was needed.</p><p>But he needed to see Iveri first.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Curtain's Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For once this time, Sur inhabited his own body in a dream. He sat cross-legged in wrap-around shirt and pants, curling his fingers behind him in the ash silt, waiting. Always waiting, and for what, he wasn’t yet sure. Soft thuds came up behind him, and while he couldn’t turn his head to look, he didn’t need to. A tall auburn-haired and golden-skinned elf stepped around him, in front of him, and sat down facing him. Sur recognized Lensoth from his other dreams, but it was something else entirely to see him face-to-face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good to finally meet my grandson, he said. “I was worried you would take my attempts to get to you the wrong way.” His gentle smile prompted one from Sur. “You nearly did. Murdering your father won’t earn you any favors with Redoran once they find out… but nor will taking the life of a priest get you anywhere with Dagoth. You understand you’re on your own now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” said Sur. “I wish you’d been more… obvious, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not every mer gets their ancestors communicating with them in such a clean-cut way as this. Finding you was hard enough…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about my mother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hers were… unfortunately… the real deal, so to speak. I didn’t go to your mother, I went to you. Your mother just happened to go to you also.” Lensoth steepled his fingers. “I’m proud of you, though. Are you going to see your friend at the Temple?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When ze’s awake. And when I am… I need to make a good fuckin’ apology, to somebody, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Start with your grandfather,” said his grandfather, laughing. “For nearly giving yourself the divine disease. I’m dead and you scared me half to death…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sur laughed, covering his mouth reflexively until Lensoth pulled his hands away from his face. “Thanks. For… well, for trying. Doesn’t bring my father back, or give me back my old name, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But our clan lives on in your name,” Lensoth said. “Keep it. Go back to your friend, seek out Vivec’s blessing--” A bitter tone emerged at the name. “--and do as you will. And please,” he continued. “Don’t come find us again. I would not have been interred in the Drinith tomb if my brother hadn’t come after my body. Stay away from Kogoruhn, away from our tomb, and <em>away from House Dagoth.</em>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something stirred in the atmosphere. Lensoth’s ears pricked. “I can’t stay much longer, but I can give you this -- it’s not too late for you. Clan Drinith would not have been Temple folk but times change and needs change. You’re on the right path.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lensoth grasped Sur’s shoulders and he woke with a start to the red-haired face of an amused Iveri.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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